Music of the Soul
by LilHobbitBookWorm
Summary: Phantom of the Opera Movie - 2005 Finished Meg Giry has made him come back and he is storming her mind and soul. Both of their lives will be touched, forever. Disclamer: I own nothing. Check out the Sequal too!
1. Prologue

_After Christine's Death: Prologue_

I will never forget that time, so long ago.

How they all despised him for being all that he knew.

They couldn't see anything true.

I admit that at first I was frightened.

After I saw the power he had over Christine, I shied back.

She was afraid of him, and yet she loved him.

Not the way she did Raoul, that is for sure, but she loved him.

My mother helped me to see what was behind the mask and I saw such hurt behind it, such sorrowful eyes.

I guess that is how I came into this mess, who could know that Meg Giry could fall in love with a Phantom.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Everyone had left the damp and dark place that once held The Phantom of the Opera. Somehow he had disappeared. I slowly opened the music box I still held in my hands and a familiar tune lifted from the wooden box.

"Masquerade, paper faces on parade. Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you…" I kept singing as though I couldn't stop when suddenly a voice came from behind me, "Must you always sing so softly Miss Giry?"It was him, the one everyone had been searching for, the phantom. His face was once again covered by a mask.

"I'm sorry sir." How could I not be polite when this man had murdered so many. I tried to turn away but he grabbed my wrist. To my surprise it wasn't forceful. My heart leapt at his touch and I shook my head to silence it.

"I have been watching you your whole life Mademoiselle, I was 11 when your mother conceived you on her twenty third birthday. I was there when you met Christine for the very first time. I watched as you danced and sang on my opera stage."

"I'm sorry sir, but you have no right to be watching me and I would kindly appreciate it if you let me go." Of coarse he did not. I do not think he ever met a temperamental girl like me before. I will not play his games and he will not overpower me as he did Christine. Yanking my hand free I pulled out the sword at my side. He laughed and in a seconds time my blade was near his throat. "How dare you! Isn't it enough that you have ruined this operas reputation and scared everyone out of their minds? Do you have any compassion for anyone other than yourself; have you gone mad with being alone that you strive to ruin all that is good and light in this world?"

"Good day to you Mademoiselle," he turned and disappeared in a cloud of red smoke.

"I wasn't finished!" I yelled into the emptiness picking up the music box and wading out of there.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

I sat in my room on the velvet red armchair, thinking. He was gone, and came back to tell me I sang to softly. How…how…different! Also, how did he dare touch me! But, his touch was so warm and unforceful, I hadn't expected that. And now, with his little music box on my lap, I sit. Those eyes, there was a struggle in them. It was like he wanted me to reject him as he had been pushed out his entire life. Yet, I saw hope, something I know Christine had never seen. His eyes were so mysteriously contradicting that had I been weak and frail I would have melted. Weakness is not in my vocabulary, and yet, maybe, just maybe I felt it tonight. NO! What and I thinking! Meg Giry, get a grip! He killed so many people. My thoughts deepened as unknowingly I opened the music box. "Maybe the Phantom has been dying everyday since he was young," I whispered to myself. And Christine, he really did love her, to the point of madness, "How Morbid," and how romantic.

I shook my head to get rid of these pathetic and depressing thoughts when a black blur came into my site. I stood up knocking the box to the floor and breaking it. I flew to the floor and picked up the severed monkey feeling my face flush. (Again, what is the deal!) A hand joined mine on the floor.

"I am willing to train you in the art of voice" he said in his gruff and mystical voice.

"You think that after what you did to Christine I am going to let you wave your power over me? Think again!" He cringed when I spoke her name, "Sorry, my mouth gets in the way with me sometimes and I say the wrong thing."

"I will see you here tomorrow for the start of your lessons"

"I never said yes."

"Goodnight mademoiselle Giry." Then he was gone. I let my legs curl under me as I sat on the floor. A tear fell down my cheek and a hope flared in my mind of tomorrow. Of Tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 3

Just a note, I am adding some singing into my story. Most of the tunes will be to actual songs in the movie. Singing will be in bold.

DISCLAMER: I do not own _The Phantom of the Opera_ or its music or words or actors, though I wish I owned Gerard Butler's voice. (I guess that's what the CD's for)

Chapter 3:

"Meg, wake up!" it was my mother coaxing me out of bed. I rubbed my forehead and turned around on the bed. She continued, "Get up this instant!" I got up and walked over to my bowl of nice cold water. The cold shock of the water flung into my face was refreshing.

"Sorry," I told my mother getting dressed into breaches and a shirt. How late was I up? All I remember was sitting on the floor crying. And the music box, it broke. I looked around the room, but it was nowhere to be seen.

"Were you up very late, daughter?" my mother coolly added folding my bed linens neatly.

"I couldn't sleep," it was the only response I could give. I couldn't let my mother know that I had been visited by the Phantom; she would not like that at all. "What would you say if I started taking singing lessons? I know its kind of sudden, and that I'm really a dancer, but I like to sing."

"With whom, may I ask, is this lesson going to take place?" She was probing; I hated it when she did that. Not only was she my mother, but she was the primary caretaker of the Opera House. If she didn't know something, she would find a way to know about it. I answered, "I don't know his name."

"And this nameless man offered to teach you how to sing? I find that hard to believe."

" Well, when I find out his name I will tell you, I don't even think that he is coming today." She looked at me and smirked. I hate that smirk. Then she left. Breathing easier I turned around and jumped at the sight of the Phantom of the Opera. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" I asked rolling my eyes. I passed around him as if he wasn't there. He stood there, silent. "Well, aren't you going to say something?"

"You have quite a temper." He said monotonously.

"I have a temper!"

"Emotion is good while singing, you must feel the music that you are vocalizing." He looked at me and I sat down on my red chair as if in a trance. He spoke again, "Christine had emotion that drived her singing, fear. Fear of singing in front of an audience, fear of acceptance, and ultimately the fear of me."

"She was fairly scared of you, many a times she would seek shelter in my room and talk. Even before she knew that her angel was a phantom menace she was frightened, yet she enjoyed your voice. Poor Christine, after her father died and she came to live with us she was scared."

"Twas her frailty that made her taken by my magic and voice. She was yet strong which gave her and I courage in the end." He looked down. His eyes were sad and yet comforted.

"**Angel that sung in Christine's dreams**

** Teach me, your new student**

** Angel of music, you were never**

** Teach me O dark Phantom**"

I looked up and he was gone, again.


	5. Chapter 4

Don't forget that only the bold is singing! Thanks!

"Do you ever stay in one place for more than a moment?" I asked the air. I rolled my eyes to the floor because of his flightiness when I saw the music box. It was fixed, with no lines or chips where I knew I had broken it. I got up from my chair and knelt beside the box. How could…? Opening the box, I noticed an envelope addressed to me.

_Make your way to the diva's dressing room and go through the _

_ mirror as you know how to do._ _It would do you well not to tell _

_ Madame Giry of this. The is another note in my music box, give_

_ it to Christine._

_ O.G. _

I stared at the parchment in my hand. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and I jumped sending the writings flying. "Come in!" I yelled groping for the sailing papers.

"Meg, whatever are you doing?" Christine asked seeing my frantic rush to grab the documents.

"You scared…" got one of them, "me" Success, I caught the last note. "Here, I have a note for you."

"For me?" Christine said with a puzzled look. She grasped the note and started to shake. "**He's with me even now."**

** "Your hands are cold."**

** "Still around me."**

** "Your face Christine, it's white."**

** "It frightens me"**

** "Don't be frightened, **just read the note." Slowly she unfolded the note, and read aloud.

" 'Wandering child, you have found your own guidance, and I hope your life goes well. Tell the Vicomte that he was a worthy opponent and that he has my blessing as the angel of Music looking out for his former pupil. Also tell him that if he hurts you I will hint him down, and gut him. Enclosed in a leather envelope in the third drawer of Meg's cedar chest, next to the pink ballet slippers is a gift for you and your fiancé. Till death, P.T.O.' " She closed the note. The whiteness left her face as she smiled. "What does this mean, Meg?"

"It means I should check the third drawer of my cedar chest next to my pink slippers." I ran over to the corner of the room and opened the correct drawer by its brass handles. There, bound in a black leather envelope was the thing that the phantom had described, exactly nest to my pink ballet shoes. I rushed back over to Christine and gave it to her. "What is it?" I questioned as she opened the envelope.

"Oh my!"

"What!" She looked at me, then back at the book.

"Meg, I don't believe this. He…He…"

"What is it?"

"He wrote out the score to the song Raoul and I sang on the rooftop." She leafed through the sheets of music. "He wrote the voice parts, and added Instrumental parts! He must have heard the entire thing, not just the part he sang in his opera."

"Oh Christine, that's wonderful! I'm so glad that he and I…" I paused.

"What Meg?"

"I've seen him. He is giving me lessons."

"What! Meg, don't do this to yourself. You don't know what he can do. He is dangerous." I looked down.

"You don't understand. I'm going to see him. Today even. I want to adventure. To get out of this monotonous life. The opera is not it for me; I love to dance, but this constant draining is driving me crazy. There's something about him. I want to be with him. I come alive around him."

"Meg, he will hurt you. I know he changed; I evoked that change in him. But you cant do this."

"I am, and you can not stop me. I want this; I want to be with him."

"Meg," she sighed, "Do what you wish, but be careful." Christine got up and placed her hand on my shoulder then left.

"**Twisted every way**

**What answer do I give?**

**Am I to go to him?**

**And perhaps have the chance to live**

**Do I go to the man who inspired Christine's voice?**

**Do I take part in fear?**

**Do I leave myself with a choice?**

**He killed without a thought**

**He murdered what was good**

**And yet I know he's changed**

**Do I get to change to?**

**O' god if I agree**

**What adventures wait for me**

**With the Phantom of the Opera?**"


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

I went into the dressing room quietly. It was turning late and I did not want to get caught sneaking. The mirror was in front of me, and I walked toward my reflection. My hand touched the side of the mirror and I pulled it open as I had done before. I walked into the dark passageway and faint organ music filled my ears and mind. It was dark, sinister, and yet, lovely and wonderful. Walking further it became louder. My foot moved forward as I made for a turn and I feel straight down, screaming. In the midst of my falling and screaming I noticed that the organ music stopped. Suddenly I dropped into a wet mass, a lake. I stuck my head out of the water gasping. Blond, wet hair dangling in my face.

"That was LOVELY!" I screamed in a hoarse squeaky voice. He stood by the organ trying to stifle a grin. "Don't Smile! What were you trying to do, kill me?"

"Not exactly. You made a wrong turn." He walked toward me with a towel, some breaches, and a shirt. After ringing out my hair I snatched the clothing and stalked off.

"Don't look!" My hand graced a black tassel which loosened a semi-see-through cloth.

"I wouldn't dream of it Mademoiselle Giry." He sat back on the organ bench and closed the wooden lip over the ivory keys. "I do not believe you have the ability to sing without straining as of now. What with the screaming of earlier on today and your most graceful entrance."

"How…"

"I was coming from your room when Christine came in, so I listened in."

"You dolt! You spied on me?" I was changed, opened the curtain, and scowled at him.

"A dolt Mademoiselle?"

"Yes, a big, pig headed dolt!"

"Pig headed?"

"It was for emphasis." I sulked over to a red armchair and curled up on it, "Do you like living in an Icebox?"

"It, in actuality, is rather warm in hear. I have adjusted though." He walked toward me and in one elegant movement his cloak was off his shoulders and draping over my wet form. Amazing!

"Thank you," I smiled up at him, "How di you get here, imprisoned here?

"Have your mother tell you, Mademoiselle."

"I want you to tell me, and you can call me Meg."

He sighed and leaned up against the armchair I was resting on. "When I was young I remember, distinctly, that my mother feared me. Because of this fear she crafted a mask of cloth, my first clothing. She died, and left me with the gypsy acrobats and magicians. I watched them while I was young and useless to them. I found out how to do all sorts of magic and illusions. Making things disappear, and myself disappear in a cloud of smoke or fire. Soon I became a traveling showcase, 'The Devils Child.'" He unfastened the bottom of this shirt and his back was stained with pink scars, I wanted to keep him from going on, but he continued. "People laughed, spit and taunted. Jockon collected his money. Same thing happened when we came to this opera house, but I killed him, strangled him. They came after me and your mother hid me in this Opera house."

I was on the verge of tears. His freedom came through death. Somehow I had seen those memories through his eyes. Tormented eyes, those of a child. "How can people be so crewel?" I asked fighting back the tears. "I remember never knowing my father. He left before I was born. In a way I am glad my mother and I had this opera house for refuge." He placed his hand on my shoulder.

"We live in a crewel world but people can change. I changed and have become better for it. Although, am I not still a dolt?" he said with a hint of sarcasm.

"I knew you had a sense of humor. Those notes you send make everyone crazy."

"On that note, my salary has not been paid."

"Send the 20,000 francs care of the Ghost by return of post, P.T.O. No one likes a debtor so it's better if your orders are obeyed. Always the obedient servant, O.G."

"The one and the same." I laughed and he smiled. There was silence and I took in my surroundings. The architecture was beautiful. There was only one recognizable outlet. "How did all of this stuff get here? How do you live?"

"All of it I crafted with my own two hands. My salary pays for the tools, wood, fabric, and other supplies. The architecture is my artistry. I know more than one hundred ways to get anywhere in this Opera, My opera. The only other person who knows close to me is your mother, and even then her knowledge does not compare.

"You astonish me. My mother said 'the opera ghost must be genius' now I see that she _really _knew." I smiled up at him, how many times had I actually done that?

"There's one more thing I want to know. You have always been known as The Phantom of the Opera, The Angel of Music, and The Opera Ghost. Who are you really?"

"Erik, with a 'k' meant to be sinister looking, you can imagine why."

I smiled up at this man and saw his lean and smooth face. His dark misty eyes and tall, broad presence. My heart swept and I knew, I knew I loved him. I stood up and leaned forward to kiss him, but he pulled away and put his hand to my lips.

"Come you must return. Those who run my theater will be missing you."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

I made my way back into my room under the cover of darkness. The opera house was silent and pitch-black. It was odd that I had not caught my mother lurking in the hallways. About to open my door I stopped and decided to visit my mother. It was time to tell her. Her door was open and I slowly nudged it further. There, my mother lay on the floor, motionless. I screamed and ran to her side.

Drama ensued, but I knelt by he in a state of incoherent shock. Blurs passed me uttering sounds which I could not comprehend, nor could I recognize the speakers. Time passed on and I still crouched at, dry eyed. A hand touched my sholder and awakened me.

"Meg, are you alright? I'm so sorry." A soft voice said. I looked up into the teary eyed face of Christine. Moonlight was sifting through the windows. "Meg?" She shook me gently. I looked down, my mother's body was gone.

"What happened?" I whispered eyes wide.

"We think your mother was killed, Meg." A man's voice said from behind me. Raoul stood there, a piece of parchment in his hand. "We found a cup of water laced with foam, poison."

I got off my knees and sat holding my legs to my chest. "Who would kill my mother?" I asked rocking back and forth. I had not family left. She raised me. How crewel could someone be to kill her?

"Meg, I know how you feel. She was like a mother to me. All of us will miss her." Christine said embracing me and I fell into her, shaking. Tears did not come. I wanted them to, but they held back.

Raoul came placed a hand on my shoulder. "I have her Will with me. Monsieur Andre thought that I should give it to you." He handed me the papers as he spoke. I took them and opened the Will.

_This is the last will and testament of Madame Evaline Giry. I appoint my daughter, Meg Giry, as the primary caretaker of this Opera House. All of my personal possessions are to be left to Meg and Christine Daae. I will my salary and the set pieces to Erik, whom designed and built each and everyone that I had gotten credit for. Both Meg and Erik, though they have never formally met will be the beneficiaries to this opera populare._

_ Evaline Giry _

I folded it back up and held it in my hand. Raoul knelt beside me and spoke, "Who is Erik, Meg?"

"I remember something. Your mother always came in with drawings of set designs, and set pieces miraculously were finished. She always said they were hers and that many a night she stayed and worked on the set, but none of that was true. Who is he?" Christine chimed in. Someone in the distance called Raoul and he left.

"It's him Christine, The Phantom of the Opera. He designed it all and helped to build it. He has a lot of time on his hands." I responded toneless. She looked at me wide eyed and frowned.

"I told you not to go to him!" she scolded.

I smiled, for the first time in a while, "I love him." She looked at me and shook her head. Raoul called her and surprisingly, she smiled at me before she left. Somehow I felt better, but not much better. How do you cope with someone murdering one you love?

Slowly, I got up and walked to the roof. Snow was falling on me and I looked up letting the snow land on my nose. A slight wind picked up and I felt something attach itself to my neck. I looked down and rubbed my fingers across a black ribbon. I attached it in bow around my neck.

"Little Meg?" Someone called from behind me. I turned and saw a blue eyed man.

"Jonathan!" I screamed, and ran to him. He wrapped his arms around me. "I missed you, Jon."

"I missed you too, Meg." Jonathan and I had been childhood friends, much like Christine and Raoul. He was the one who kissed me for the first time, when we were ten. He moved, but we still wrote.

We hugged long, too long. He slid his hand lower down my back and moved my hair aside to nuzzle his lips against my neck. "Stop, Jon." I tried to push him away but he held on hard. "NO!" I yelled as he tried to slide his hand up my shirt. "What are you doing, Jon!"

"Meg, we haven't seen each other in nine years. I thought…"

"You thought wrong. We ended when you left."

"But Meg, I need you, you don't know what its been like."

"I don't love you, you've changed."

"I have changed Meg, but I came back to ask you to marry me."

"No! I don't love you and I never will, we are friends, best friends. Anyway, my mother would never approve." She never liked him anyways. He was always so…disturbing.

"Your mother is dead, get that through your mind!" He yelled. He had never yelled at me before.

"I don't love you, Jon. Get that through your head!" I screamed back and ran off the roof crying. My room was charcoal black as I flopped myself onto the bed and wept.


	8. Chapter 7

_OK peoples. Thank you for all the reviews and such. This chapter may either be a delight for you or horrible. Don't forget that the bold indicated singing. Enjoy!_

Chapter 7:

Everything had gone wrong. My mother was gone, murdered. Jon, someone who I considered my friend took advantage of me, of my friendship. As kids he was the smart one. There was something drastically wrong about him. Tears flowed freely as I shook. How? Someone came from behind me and brought me to my feet, embracing me. Erik. I cried into him, clutching him. His strong hands comforted me,

"**Megan, Megan**," he sang. His hands cupped my face and his thumbs wiped the tears rolling down my cheeks. I smiled a rueful smile and continued to cry. "You are hurt, more deeply than one could know. Sorrow will pass. Life will go on and you must let it." I pushed my face against him and he began to gently rub my back. He had no idea how I wanted his words to be true.

"I'm frightened," was all I could manage to say. He held me tighter, "Don't let go."

"**Nighttime sharpens**

**heightens each depression.**

**Pain, it stirs**

**and wakes unpleasant nature.**

**Silently the senses**

**abandon their defenses.**

**Slowly, gently**

**night unfurls its solace.**

**Grasp it, sense it,**

**wonderful and tender.**

**Turn your face away**

**from the horrors of this day,**

**Turn your thoughts away**

**from cold, inhuman hurt.**

**Take comfort in the music of the night.**

**Close your eyes and surrender, to go past this hate.**

**Put your thoughts of this suffering behind.**

**Close your eyes,**

**let your spirit start to soar.**

**And you'll live as you wished to live before.**"

He continued and I stood their, mesmerized by his voice. I looked at his eyes and found a joy I had never seen before. He became louder and I sank down to the bed. Everything he sang helped me cope with what I had faced that night. I felt a settling feeling.

"**You, again, can make your soul take flight.**

**I'll help you find your music of the night…**"

One note he held forever, longingly and beautiful. I reached out my hand and pulled him towards me. My lips brushed his and I feel into his caressing. My hand reached up and removed his mask. He pulled back sharply. I had seen his face before, but now, it did not matter. I placed my hand on his deformed face and pulled him back. I lay down on my bed as we kissed. That was the night, the night that took us past the point of no return.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Days turned into weeks and everything was patching itself up. The person who killed my mother had not been found, but I was moving past her death. I missed her, but I had a peace I had not had before. Erik and I kept seeing each other. Every night I meandered down to him. I continued lessons. We found that I have an ear for harmonization and would do well at a soprano two or alto part. My voice became stronger. I also took other lessons which I was fonder of then the singing ones. He taught me how to through a noose. I never thought I would ever need it, but I enjoyed it. I was good at it to. My braking point was when I caught him off guard and reminded him to always keep his hand at the level of his eyes.

My hand now adorned a simple gold ring, a symbol of us. We had no legal bonds, and who would marry the caretaker of the opera and the man responsible for the disaster that was still being cleaned from the floor? People called me "Madame Giry". Of coarse they didn't know who had given me the band, and they didn't want to.

Christine and Raoul were married. I attended, as I said I would and so did Erik, hiding in the shadows. In some ways, this was the greatest prank to have played on Raoul, for he did not know of my involvement with the Phantom of the Opera.

One bad thing has come out of my love for Erik. Jonathan has stuck around, like a little pest scrounging for garbage. Here I sit in my comfy armchair thinking about all these things, and something else, something life changing.

"Meg, you've been avoiding me," Jon said from the door of my room. His arms crossed in front of him.

"Of coarse Jon, its not that I haven't been busy." I rolled my eyes. I tried to maintain a calm appearance around him, when I wanted to kill the little rodent.

"You haven't changed your mind yet, about my proposal."

"No, see this ring," I held my hand in the air, "I'm taken"

"You were all mine when we were children, what happened?"

"You moved, and now you have changed. I don't think it will ever be the same Jon."

"Want to know what I think?"

"Not real…"

"Shut-up!" he snapped. What had happened to him? He had grown cold. "I think that this ring doesn't symbolize a thing. That you are 'married' to a ghost. He doesn't love you, and you can't love him because he doesn't exist."

I hurled a lamp at him, and got up to walk away, but he cornered me pushing me against the wall with his hands, and holding me there with his body.

"Jon stop!" I cried but with no avail. He pressed me harder.

"Well guess what Meg. I got a note from your little friend. _Your _Opera Ghost. He told me to leave you be, but I will not loose you, my Meg." He rubbed my hair. I had had enough. I kicked him, square between the legs and ran as he doubled over in pain. "Now, let it be war on you both!" I heard him scream as I went through the mirror, and down into the darkness.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

"I can't believe he would do that, Erik. Where did my best friend go? It will kill me if he doesn't stop!" I screamed pacing back and forth waving my hands like a lunatic. Erik sat on his organ bench listening to me rant. He got up and placed his hands on my shoulders to stop me from wearing a hole in his floor. I sighed and kissed the back of his hand. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked turning me toward him.

"Everything. You listen to me. You comfort me. I love you for that, all of it. I love you." He planted a kiss on my lips and smiled in his quirky way.

"Now, before you become mush, what is it you came here to tell me?" he caressed my cheek with his hand.

"This is a sickening display." A voice commented from the water. I stood their in shock and fear as Jonathan came into the light. "Come with me, darling Meg. Leave this monster to his hole." Jon walked closer. Why did Erik leave his mask off? It wasn't helping the situation.

"No! I told you that I don't love you. Cant you just except that?" I screamed closing my fists in anger.

"And you love this thing, this beast?"

"Yes." I stated firmly. Erik was slowly bending down; a rope was within his reach.

"Let us see if this thing loves _you_." He pulled out a revolver and pointed it at me. I gasped and placed a hand on my stomach. "Put the rope down and move away or she will die." Erick moved away leaving the rope on the floor.

"This is not the way to accomplish anything," Erik interjected, "Killing her won't solve anything. I know it won't."

"Well, sir." Jon bowed mockingly his gun still fixated on me. "You do not see my logic behind this. If I made her choose, she would choose you and I would be forced to kill a worthy opponent. And, what would be the joy in stealing her. You see, if she dies, it is none the better or worse since she is damaged goods already. But, I know you will not let her be killed as her mother was. So in the end, I will win her from you. This is your choice. This is the point of no return." Erik looked at me trembling. There was a remembrance in his eyes.

"How do you know Madame Giry was murdered? I do not believe Meg told you."

"She didn't," he sneered, "It's a funny thing, but Iocane powder is tasteless, colorless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and leaves foam at the bottom of a glass." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Jonathan killed my mother. I felt helpless, hopeless.

"Why Jon?" I screamed, his cold eyes looked at me and he grinned.

"I needed you Meg. With your mother out of the way it made a place for me. But like a little whore, you filled it with this Phantom." Erik's face cringed in anger as he took a step forward. "Don't even." Jon cocked his gun.

"So it's come to this then?" Erick said his words harsh and sad.

"I'd rather die than go with him. Id rather die!" I yelled.

"Is that so, Meg my sweet?" Jon laughed. Erik dug his nails into his palms drawing blood. He wanted to kill Jon, but if he moved he's risk my death. Jon looked at Erik, "Either way you choose you cannot win. Do you end your days with her, or do you send her to her death."

"**Angel of music,**

**friend and lover.**

**Give to him no glory.**

**Angel of music, **

**let him kill me.**

**Turn from me, my Angel" **Everything was silent. I closed my eyes ready for the blow.

Silently, Erik spoke, "Take her." I opened my eyes and saw his tears. A shot rang out and time stopped as Erik fell.

"Couldn't risk him coming after you, now could I." he grinned. With a depth of anger I had never felt before I ran over to the rope and flung it around Jon's neck.

"This is for my mother!" I twisted my wrist tightening the noose. "This is for Erik!" I pulled the rope and he fell face first into the water. "And this, this is for me!" I came over to him and strangled him. His blue eyes went lifeless and, letting go of the rope I ran to Erik.

Blood covered his chest and I ripped of my sleeve to stop the bleeding. Tears flowed mercilessly down my face.

"Meg. What I say now is going to be very important." He said, his breathing labored. "There is a rose, with a ring on it." He paused, gasping. "Give it to Christine."

"Why? I don't understand." My hand touched his whitening face. "I thought you let her go."

"I did, a long time ago. I never got to see her to say it." He coughed. I put my knuckles to my mouth."

"I still don't understand. Why give it to her?" I could hear his heartbeat, slowing, pausing. His hand cupped my face.

"Because, **Meg, I love you**." He breathed no more. His eyes at peace. A peace I had never seen before.

"But our child, our child!" I cried into the night, holding him.


	11. Epilogue

_After Christine's Death: Epilogue_

I loved him with all my heart,

but he was taken from me.

Now I know how Erik must have felt,

loosing her.

He got past it,

I haven't.

Some would say that the end for him was what he deserved.

Was repayment for murder.

Was pitiful.

But I know why he died.

To save me,

to love me.

His boy is like him.

My little Eric.

His eyes,

His character,

His voice.

The rose I had forgotten.

But it is now on Christine's grave.

He let her go,

for me.

I will never let him go.

I do not care what people say.

I will not move on.

For he was my one love.

Christine may have gotten

his Music of the Night

In death,

she was bought his music box.

But in the end,

I won his love.

I had his child.

I got his music,

the Music of his Soul.

Thank you all so much for reading my Phan fic. (Pun intended). I hope you enjoyed it and I would like you all to know how much your reviews mean to me. Gracias! Also…THERE IS A SEQUAL! Its called "Something Greater". I have a feeling it will appeal to those who dislike my killing off of Erik. Please R&R.


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